


Bloodline

by ChelleyPam



Category: Revolution (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-03-16 10:47:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3485363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelleyPam/pseuds/ChelleyPam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Militia has Danny.  That's just not good for anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _This is an odd bunny that's been kicking around for a few months now. In case you haven't noticed, I kind of like throwing magic into my stories. And, hey, Revolution is a sci-fi/fantasy series._

Charlie sat in the remnants of an old fairgrounds and looked through the post cards she had stashed in the old lunch box. Pretty pictures of places and cities she'd never seen. She knew her dad was just trying to protect her, but she was so tired of being 'safe'. She was twenty and she had yet to live! She had to stay near the village. She had to keep her head down. She had to pretend to be like everyone else.

A shot rang out. Her head whipped up, looking off towards the village. There was only one illegal firearm in their village, and the owner kept it stashed unless there was a bandit raid. Either their home was being attacked or the Militia were nearby.

Charlie jumped up and took off running, ignoring branches that tugged at her hair and her skin as she passed. She had to get back. Had to make sure everyone was all right.

A spike of pain, muted and familiar, shot through her body. She started running faster. Pain meant danger. Pain meant someone was hurt. To feel it this far out meant either several someones were hurt or someone was hurt very badly. Maybe even dying.

She broke from the woods and through the yards turned gardens, coming to the cracked and aged asphalt of the streets some developer had laid out for the little patch of houses. There were people either lying down or seated. Cordite and blood tinged the air. 

The pain became a steady, nagging ache. 

She spied Maggie and ran to her side, falling to her knees quickly enough she skidded on them a couple of inches, saved from road rash only by the leather of her pants. Her father lay there, blood everywhere, struggling to breathe. His head was pillowed by a folded up shirt and he reached out to her with bloody fingers. 

“Militia...took Danny.”

“We'll get him back.”

“Go to Chicago. My brother...Miles. The Grand.”

“You'll go with me. You'll get better and we'll go together.”

He shook his head. The wound was mortal and he knew it. Anger gnawed at her, battling for dominance with the pain. 

_You can't let people know, Charlie._

_You have to keep it hidden._

_People would try to use you if they knew._

The light was fading from her father's eyes. He was dying. 

Charlie threw out the rules.

She let go of her father's hand and placed both of hers on him with firm determination. One hand rested on his forehead, the other over the wound. She grabbed hold of that part of her that made her feel when people were injured or sick and pulled it to the surface, gathered it into waves that traveled down her arms, into her hands and from her into her father through her fingers.

Maggie gasped and reached to pull her away. “Charlie, no!” Her voice was a harsh whisper. “Someone will see!”

She was stronger than Maggie. She didn't let the other woman pull her hands away. Just kept pushing, imagining the energy surging through his body. It sought out internal bleeding and sealed the tears in delicate walls of veins, arteries and capillaries. It coaxed a cracked rib to strengthen. It repaired the damaged alveoli so they could process the exchange of gasses, allowing for a better flow of oxygen to cells. 

Her father regained coherency. His eyes focused on her. He tried to move, to push her away. “No...Charlie...it's too much.”

But it wasn't too much. She could tell when it was too much and she wasn't anywhere near her limit. Yes, it hurt. He was close to death and it hurt. It felt like coarse sand scouring her nerves and metal shards slicing into her brain, but she felt no stutter to the energy. Just her body trying to push it out faster, to be quicker.

He started coughing, hacking up blood that was clotting under her determination. It was no longer needed. It wasn't even in the right place and needed to be expectorated. Maggie wiped it from his lips and chin as quickly as it came up, trying her best to shield what was going on with her body. Trying to keep the secret.

His breathing became less labored, his heartbeat stronger and even. The power had fewer places to go and there was resistance when she tried to push further. Satisfied, she let her hands drift away from him and he sat up. He would live. He had lost blood and the healing would leave him hungry, but he would live.

“Charlie, you shouldn't have done that.”

She didn't mind that he said it. She knew why he did. Her legs felt tired as she stood up, the aching pain still there, reminding her that others were injured as well. She turned and started walking to the greatest source of the discomfort.

Her father grabbed her wrist. “No.” He put firmness into his voice. “People will see.”

Charlie looked back at him, leaning slightly away. “Then what good am I?” She pulled her arm from his grasp and resumed walking to her next patient. There were people who needed her.

~***~

“Is she going to be all right?”

“She'll be fine. She's just tired. That took a lot out of her.”

“Ben...I can't believe it...”

“We were trying to keep her safe, John. If the Militia found out about her...”

“Of course. Of course. I get it.” She heard feet shuffling downstairs. “If you need anything, let us know. Just because she's too tired to hunt doesn't mean you guys should go hungry. Hell, the girl's fed enough of us through the lean times and bad weather, we all owe her anyway. I'll send Sarah over with some fresh bread and some cheese. Latest batch just ripened enough to be good.”

“Thank you. That's appreciated.”

A door shut. She was still tired but she didn't think she could sleep any longer. 

Danny couldn't afford for her to sleep any longer. 

Charlie sat up, stretching sore muscles and licking dry lips. She didn't remember changing clothes, but she was wearing an old t-shirt with some long gone band logo on the front, though why anyone would use a comedic sketch of giant lips she couldn't fathom. It was too large for even Aaron to wear, but it made a good nightgown. 

She got up and padded down the stairs on bare feet. The scent of ham frying wafted towards her. Maggie looked up from where she was opening a jar of strawberry preserves. There was a basket of biscuits and fresh butter. They'd used the last of their butter the day before and no one in their household could make a decent biscuit.

“What's all this?”

“All this is edible gratitude from the families of the people you helped yesterday.” She may give Maggie a hard time, but the woman's soft accent made her sound lovely even when she was pissed. Like she was now. 

Charlie swallowed. “I know I'm not supposed t...”

Her father slammed his hand against the counter next to the stove where he was heating the ham. “That was stupid of you, Charlie. The whole village knows now. It's bound to get out to other places.”

She knew that. She knew the rules. “You were dying.”

He turned around. “And you should have let me go!”

She felt as though he'd slapped her. “How can you say that?!”

“Because you would have been safe!” Aaron slipped in behind him, taking over the skillet and very carefully not injecting himself into the family argument. “Charlie...it's dangerous for people to know what you can do.”

“Why? Why is it so bad if I help people? What good is it for me to be like this if I don't help people?”

“This thing has killed almost everyone who's ever had it! Look at the dates in the family, birth and death. How many of those people died way too young? Most of those are because they pushed too hard. Reached too far. Because they couldn't stop once they started and they just poured everything they had into someone too far gone or into one person too many. Then they just fell down and never got back up!”

“But I _can_ stop! You know I can. You've seen me do it with Danny when he almost died! And I know my limits! I could have kept going last night if I had to!” 

“And if this gets out to the Militia? What do you think they'd do with you, Charlie? I'll tell you. They'll drag you out to whatever battle they're fighting and chain you inside a med tent to put their men back together. You'll be out there surrounded by people are hurting and dying. You know what suffering does to you. You know how much it hurts when it's just one or two people. What are you going to do when it's dozens? Or hundreds?”

“I know that. But these are our neighbors! These are people we know! I couldn't just stand there and do nothing!” She looked to Maggie for help. “You took an oath to help, right? To do no harm?”

Maggie took a breath and let it out slowly. “That's not exactly what it says. I will agree that the spirit of the oath is generally considered to mean that we should give aid. But, Charlie, I'm a doctor. I studied and I learned the human body and I've learned what herbs I can use to try and duplicate the medicines no longer available.” She came around the table to take Charlie's hands into her own. “I am not you. What you have is wonderful and strange, and I understand if you feel obligated to help others, but what you have is not knowledge or skill. There is a great difference between what I do and the ability to reach into a person and push power into them.”

She scowled, yanking her hands from Maggie. It all seemed so unfair. To be scolded like a child who'd tracked mud in on a freshly scrubbed floor when she'd been _helping_!

She whirled on her father. “Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be following those men? Trying to get Danny back? What about going to Chicago to get Uncle Miles so he can help?”

Ben blinked back tears. “I couldn't leave you here. Not after yesterday.”

“Fine. Let's go, then.”

Maggie tried to reason with her. “Charlie, you fell asleep the moment you fell into bed. We had to change your clothes for you to get you comfortable.”

“I'm fine now. I'm awake.”

“We can't leave yet.” Ben shook his head. “We can't stay here. We have to leave and get you away before this spreads. But we'll have to wait until everyone's asleep. That way no one will see that we're gone or which way we went until morning.” He motioned her towards a chair. “Eat up, then get some more sleep. It may be a while before we have a comfortable place to rest again.”

~***~

Ben took the lead, his steps sure and determined. Aaron soldiered on bravely in spite of being in poor shape for an extended journey on foot. He complained a bit at the end of the day, but Charlie took care of his blisters and aches when they rested. They were alone with no one to see, and keeping them all healthy was good for the journey. 

So was keeping hydrated. Charlie would fetch water when they came across a pond or stream that looked potable. Everyone was packing, breaking camp in the morning, when she made her way to the secluded waterfall she'd used the night before to wash up, only to find they were no longer alone. A boy who looked her age had made his camp on the shore of the pond that caught the water, examining his bow. She ducked back behind cover, curious but cautious.

“You know, most people just say 'hi'.”

Busted. 

She came out. “Hi.” He was handsome with short black hair and a strong build. He needed a new shirt, though. The one he wore was a little too snug across the chest. 

“I'm Nate.”

“Charlie.” She waved the empty bottles in her hand briefly. “I'm just going to fill these up.” She did so quickly and muttered a shy 'good-bye' before heading back to the others.

They reached O'Hare airport late in the day. Late enough that her dad didn't feel comfortable entering the city proper. It would be dark and human predators would be on the streets. Better to go in during daylight when it may be somewhat less dangerous.

“You need to get some sleep anyway.”

“I'm fine.”

“Then humor me, Charlie. Eat something and get some sleep.” He looked up at the 757 Aaron was building steps to using abandoned suitcases. “The seats in these things weren't the best, but they'll still be better than the ground.”

“And there might be some good meds still. They kept them in the front.”

Maggie tilted her head curiously. “How do you know that?”

Ben shook his head. “He probably owned one. Aaron used to be high up in Google.”

“That's a computer thing, right?”

Her dad laughed. “Sorry, Aaron. Long gone are they days when kids said 'I'll Google it'.”

“I've learned to live with it. Come on.” 

True to his assessment, the seats weren't that great. They were better than cold, hard ground. Charlie was sleeping somewhat soundly when an annoying tickle by her ear roused her. She turned to look into a leering face, his fetid breath on her skin. 

“Wakey wakey.” He had a knife next to her face where she can see it. She glances over and sees that he isn't alone, but has friends who hold her father and Maggie, keeping Aaron in place by threatening them. 

“You folks should be more careful. There's bandits in these areas.”

She can see her dad in the edge of her vision. “Please...please don't hurt her. Take whatever you want, just don't hurt her.”

“I'm not going to hurt her. I'm just going to have some fun.” The man grabbed her, pulling her from the airplane seat and up to the front of the plane where he can slam her against the wall, pinning her in place with his body. 

Charlie yelled in protest, trying to fight him. She heard Maggie telling the others to take it easy and look in her pack. The one on her turns to see what's up and notices his friend pulls a bottle of whiskey from inside the bag. “Heh, got ourselves a party girl. That's good. We like to party.”

He turns his attention back to Charlie, one hand squeezing her breast cruelly while the other works to try and yank her shirt up. She bites and scratches, trying to hurt him. He gets distracted when one of the guys starts choking. A sharp stab of discomfort wrenches through her gut, telling her someone is hurt just before the man starts to cough up blood. 

“What's in the whiskey, Bitch?!”

There is a familiar whistling noise and he man on Charlie jerks. His eyes are wide as he falls down, letting her see the boy, Nate, standing outside with his bow. An arrow is sticking out of the man's back. It was hard for her to wrap her mind around that but the sound of struggles drew her attention. Maggie had managed to get around the man she'd poisoned, wrapping tubing around his throat and pulling down from behind until he stopped moving. Charlie felt his life snuff out.

The last man was trying to get the better of her dad, pushing down with his knife while he held him off. She swallowed, grabbed her hunting knife, and threw it. She didn't let herself think on it. Couldn't let herself think on it. It was her dad or the bandit and she knew which one was more important. The knife hit, sinking with a squelch as it cut through flesh and tissue into the side of his neck.

His life ended.

She'd killed a man.

Charlie slumped back against the wall of the plane, sliding down until she was seated, her eyes watching the pool of blood growing larger.

~***~

“Charlie, I know you're upset. You didn't have a choice. You didn't do anything wrong.”

Nate had stayed with them through the night and was now leading the way from the airport to the city. Her dad wanted to stay back with her. She knew he was worried. 

So was she. 

“I took a life. He wasn't a deer or a rabbit or a pig. He was a person.”

She ended a man's life. 

She felt stained.

Ben steadied his breathing. She couldn't look at him. She didn't want to see the worry etched into his features. “Charlotte, it was us or them. They would have hurt you. They would have taken turns raping you and Maggie and killed us all, or worse. They could have kept you prisoner. Sold you to a brothel or to slavers. Sometimes we don't have a choice.”

Funny how he could say that. 

“Then why was it that Mom had to shoot that man who tried to take our food?”

He swallowed. “I was weaker, then. It hadn't been long enough for me to slough off civilization, yet.”

“You still can't kill anyone. You don't have it in you.”

“I wouldn't be so sure of that. There are some things even I couldn't watch happen.” He shook his head. “I couldn't stand by and let someone hurt you. I wanted to kill that man if it meant keeping you safe, I just wasn't good enough to manage it. That's why we need my brother.”

He touched her arm, signaling her to slow up while watching Nate and Maggie walk on. “Charlie, this is important. You can't say Miles' name in front of anyone.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“He's got a bounty on his head. A big one. Twenty-five pounds of gold.”

She stumbled. No one had a bounty that high. She kept her voice low. “What did he do?”

Her father looked uncomfortable. “He deserted. Miles...you've heard of Sebastian Monroe.”

“Yeah, the president of the Republic. That's kind of the why it's named that.”

“Yeah, well, he grew up in the same town as me and Miles. They were the same age. Were friends since preschool. In truth, he was closer to Monroe than he ever was to me. They grew up together. Joined the Marines together. They went to war together.” He swallowed. “And they built the Republic together. Miles made the Militia. He was the Commanding General.”

She wanted to deny it, but she could tell he was speaking the truth. “So Monroe wants him because he deserted?”

“After he tried to kill Monroe and failed.” Ben checked to make sure they were still far enough back not to be overheard. “Things got crazy and Bass got crazier than Miles. He finally realized that things had gone too far and that something needed to change. Only...he couldn't do it. They'd been brothers their whole lives. Loved one another like family. Miles couldn't go through with killing him, so he ran instead.” He reached out and rubbed her back reassuringly. “And I think Bass still cares about Miles, because it's very clear that Miles has to be brought in alive or nothing. He's no more willing to kill Miles than Miles is to kill him.”

She processed this. “What if he won't help us?”

“He will.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because he may love Bass like family, but he is a true part of ours. He had to memorize the family tree and know all the secrets same as me. He'll understand that we can't leave Danny with the Militia.”

They caught back up with the others as they got to the more crowded, populated streets of the city. Ben knows it, as does Aaron. They both lived here at one point in time and make their way to The Grand. It was once a nice hotel, Aaron mentions he got married there, but now the lobby is a bar, the marble tile and bar lending a false air of class that the patrons do not maintain. 

Charlie is standing by her father when he hesitates, his expression a mix of longing and uncertainty. He gives her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing her and walking to the bar where a tall man with dark hair is filling bottles from a still.

“Excuse me, but I need to speak to Mr. Redman.”

The man turns around, stilling briefly when he meets Ben's gaze. “You got him. What can I help you with?”

“I hear you're the man to talk to if I'm looking for something a little more upscale.”

He puts the bottle down, shrugging with one shoulder. “I might have something in the back. Come on and take a look. Just you.” He pulls away but Ben speaks up again. 

“I'd like to bring my daughter with me. No offense, but the crowd here doesn't look too friendly.”

The bartender sizes up Charlie and she thinks she sees an expression of near anger in his features before he banishes it. “Okay, just the two of you then.”

“You guys stay here. We'll be back.”

Charlie and Ben follow the man through a door down more marble floors until they get to a large entry way that has been turned into a dwelling. There are statues and art and shelves filled with books. Charlie looks up and sees a massive bed on the landing above. Mr. Redman apparently likes his creature comforts.

Once the door shuts behind them, he turns around, scowl on his features. “What the hell, Ben! It's one thing for you to come here, but you drag Charlie along? Why don't you just serve up your damn family?”

“I didn't have a choice.”

“Yeah, you did. You could have gotten your asses out of the Republic years ago like I told you to!”

“Crossing the border isn't exactly easy, Miles. Danny doesn't travel well as it is without adding that kind of stress. And I had to move Charlie.”

“Why?”

Her dad flicked his eyes at her. It almost looked like he was beseeching her for understanding. “Blood will out.”

Miles took a step back, his eyes raking over her in near horror. “It hit her.”

“It hit both of them.”

That got his attention. He frowned, confused. “What? That doesn't happen. There's not a single record of siblings.”

“Really, Miles? We're going to play that?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I know. I know about you and Rachel. I know about the affair.” Charlie gasped, her eyes going from Ben to Miles and back. She saw Miles take a step back, shame coloring his features. “I know she offered to leave me for you.”

“I...I'm a selfish asshole, Ben. That can't be a surprise.”

“No, I pretty much expect that from you. The best thing I can say is that you broke it off. Told her to come back to me. But when I started seeing it in Danny, too...that's when I knew she isn't mine. It doesn't hit siblings, but we both know it sometimes hits cousins.”

“Wait.” Her head was starting to spin. “Just...wait.” Both men looked at her. Both of them looked ashamed. “Are you telling that you've been lying to me...this whole time?”

“You were almost fifteen by the time I figured it out, Charlie. I don't care which of us made you, you're still my daughter.”

She looked at Miles. “And you? I mean, aside from sleeping with your brother's wife, what's your stake in all of this?”

Miles wasn't able to meet her eyes for long. His eyes were shining, and there may have been a slight tremble to his jaw. “I didn't know. But...you were probably better off with Ben. I would have just disappointed you. Might have even gotten you killed.”

This was unreal. She paced a five foot path, trying to wrap her head around it. It as just too big. “No, you know what? We don't have time for this. We need to figure out how to get Danny back.”

“Danny? Where's Danny?”

“The Militia has him.”

Miles glared at Ben. “How the fuck did you let that happen!”

“They showed up looking for me. I got shot...it should have been fatal so they left me there and took Danny.”

“Should have been fatal?” Miles looked to Charlie then back at Ben, pointing a finger towards the girl. “You let her heal a fatal wound? Christ, Ben! Why don't you just slit her throat? It would be more merciful!”

“She can handle it.”

“Our family tree is filled with people who thought they could 'handle it'. You remember what they all have in common? They didn't make it to thirty!”

“She handled it, Miles. She saved my life and then she healed the village.”

“Oh, that's just lovely. Why don't you set her up as a faith healer?”

“I didn't exactly allow it. I told her not to and she did it anyway.”

“Then obviously she wasn't better off with you. I would have at least taught her to mind!”

Ben gave a bitter laugh. “No, you wouldn't have. Believe me.”

“Stop it! Both of you just...stop it!” They looked at her again, neither of them looking particularly chagrined which only irritated her further. “Danny is out there somewhere with soldiers. _Soldiers_! Men who fight and shoot and get hurt. He's already weak from the asthma, and he doesn't know how to stop. One of those men gets hurt, badly hurt, and he's going to try to fix them. And he may not survive it. He'll kill himself trying to save one of his kidnappers. So you two need to shut up, stop fighting and figure out how we're going to get my brother back.”

Neither man looked particularly happy about her taking them to task. Miles looked annoyed. Ben looked embarrassed. 

“See? Definitely your kid.”


	2. Chapter 2

She made her way back to the bar, her steps carrying her to a spot next to Maggie. She signaled the young kid minding the customers and waved him over, nodding to the bottle in his hand. “Give me a shot.”

Maggie blinked at her in surprise as the boy set a glass in front of her and poured the liquor. Charlie picked it up and chugged it just as she'd seen Aaron do on several occasions. It burned, almost caustic against the tender tissues of her throat. She coughed, her body rebelling against the strange drink but she forced it down, her eyes blinking back sudden tears. She suffered through it until she was able to breath normally gain, set the glass back down onto the bar and said, “Again.”

Maggie reached out, her fingers going around her wrist. “Charlie, no.”

She reached with her other hand and plucked Maggie's away. “Maggie, yes.” The boy poured another shot and this time it was slightly less painful to drink.

“What happened in there?”

She bit off a bitter sob. “I found out just how fucked up my family tree really is. Again.” The kid moved to pour another shot, but Maggie snatched the shot glass away and gave him a glare so cold it sent him scurrying off to the other side of the bar. 

“Charlotte,” she started, her voice pitched soft and low, “what's the matter?”

“Oh, nothing much.” Her smile was trembling and brittle. Nate was by her shoulder and Aaron was seated at the corner next to Maggie, his eyes huge and round behind his glasses. “Just learned that my father is really my uncle and my uncle is really my dad. It's no big deal, really.” She felt hot tears trying to escape down her cheeks and wiped them away angrily. “What's so bad about that?”

“Oh, Charlie.” Maggie's hand moved to her back, rubbing it soothingly. 

“Why should that upset me? Being lied to all my life isn't that bad, really.” She looked at the shot glass. “I need another drink.”

“Charlie, alcohol doesn't fix anything.”

“My uncle seems to think so. Sorry, I mean my dad. His liver is practically pickled.” She'd felt that in him, the cirrhosis already firmly entrenched. 

That's how she knew he was coming up behind her. She kept facing towards the far wall, still too angry and off balance to look at either father figure at the moment. She felt Nate's presence move away from her and towards Miles, his deep tenor voice tinged with anger. “What did you say to her?”

There was the soft sound of fabric and flesh moving before Miles responded. “Militia, huh?” She whirled around, eyes wide, to find Miles holding Jason's upper arm in his hands, one pulling back the sleeve to reveal the brand on the inside of his wrist. “I knew there was something about you I didn't like.”

What came next happened almost too fast to track. First Nate had a knife to Miles' throat, then he was backing out of the bar with his bow nocked and drawn. Charlie watched in stunned silence as he kicked the door open and vanished. 

Miles was still glaring at the door when his voice rang out. “Closing time! Everyone out! Don't worry about your tabs. It's on the house.”

Everyone scurried. Miles went behind the bar, opened a locked drawer where he kept the money and put together a bag of gold and diamonds that he tossed to the kid. “Severance pay. If you want the bar, wait a day or two and come back. It's all yours.”

“You need me to stay and help, Stu?”

“Nah. You got your folks to look after. You take care of yours.” He looked over at Charlie and she saw the worry there. “I'll take care of mine.” 

The boy hesitated, but he left as bidden. Miles looked over their rag tag group. “Get your crap. I got some supplies we can take. We need to book before that kid comes back with reinforcements.”

They headed out. Charlie didn't know it, but the Militia came by about three hours later looking for Miles and only found an empty hotel. Miles knew much more about roughing it and covering his trail than his older brother. Hell, he knew more about it than Charlie, and she thought she knew everything there was. It was a little embarrassing to find out how wrong she had been.

“I'd rather you took Charlie and headed for Texas. Leave Danny to me.”

She looked up from where she was tending a spitted rabbit intended for dinner. Her uncle-dad was looking at father-uncle in question. “Why Texas? You think Gene's still there?”

“According to the intel I had before I deserted he was. Lost Charlotte to a cholera outbreak, but he was still working as the town doctor. My sources said that Texas was well aware of his connection to us, but were content to leave him be as long as he didn't show any signs of working with me or Bass. They just made sure to have regular patrols of Rangers pass through Willoughby to keep an eye on him.”

“Why would yo...you were watching him in case I showed up there.”

Miles didn't deny it. “It's a thousand miles from here to Philly. Will take a couple months if we're lucky. That's weeks on the open road worrying the Militia might cotton on to Charlie being different. I don't like those odds. The Rangers...you tell them who you are, that you're trying to hide from me and Bass, and they'll give you an armed escort to Willoughby and put an entire company between the two of you and him.”

Charlie shook her head. “No, I'm not running away to hide in Texas. Danny was my responsibility.”

Miles looked at her then at Ben. “Really?”

Ben winced. “Rachel always put her to watching Danny.”

“And you were okay with that? She didn't have enough on her plate already?” Miles looked as though he was about to deck his brother. “Christ, Ben! What the hell have you been doing for the past fifteen years?”

“The best I can!”

Maggie could see the storm about to hit and moved to get between them. “This is no time to fight amongst ourselves. I think we're all in agreement that our main concern is getting Danny back while at the same time keeping Charlie safe.” She waited until she was certain the brothers weren't going to kill one another. “Now, as much as I don't care for the idea, keeping Charlie with us will be a benefit to all. Being on the road without benefit of shelter or a steady food and water supply is hard on the body, and she has the ability to keep us sound.”

Miles' knee jerk response was “That's not happening” the same time Ben said, “It' worked so far.”

“Really, Ben? You're okay with pushing her like that?”

“I'm standing right here!” Charlie moved into Miles' personal space, her expression mulish. “And I can speak for myself. Yes, I've been keeping everyone healthy. It's what I do and I do it very well.”

“It's asking to end up in an early grave.”

“Not for me!” She felt Maggie's hand on her shoulder, gentle and calming, and took a steadying breath. “I can tell when it's too much and I can stop. I've done it before with Danny when he had an attack, stabilizing him enough that his own gift can take over without actually trying to heal him.” It was a big deal, being able to do that. The power couldn't fix what was wrong with Danny, wasn't able to wipe out congenital defects, but it could decrease the inflammation that flared with the attacks. Danny would always be somewhat hampered by his health, but she was able to make his life a little more comfortable.

And now he was who knew where with men who were trained for violence and shows of force. Were they giving him enough to eat and drink? Were they giving him enough blankets to keep warm? The nights were still cold.

Charlie lifted her chin defiantly and gathered her pack. She threaded her arms through the straps and waited for the rest of them to get ready to move.

~***~

The last time he'd felt something like this, Maggie had given him a foul tasting tea that knocked him unconscious, then she and his father had maintained a vigil by his bedside to make sure he didn't get up in the middle of the night and go to the neighbor's house to try and help. Mr. Lassiter had fallen from the roof of his house while doing repairs and the broken ribs had punctured a lung. Maggie had done her best, but with his age and the lack of hearty meals during a particularly harsh winter, he hadn't stood a chance. It had taken about twenty-five hours for him to die.

Danny looked at the young man lying across the tail of the wagon, one hand clutching the wound in his belly as his eyes stared up at the sky. Even looking at him hurt. He could feel the man's life starting to slip away. 

He'd asked Charlie once why she took the few risks that she dared when it came to the curse. She said that it hurt more not to help. He'd once dared to heal up a gash she got on her forehead when they'd been out exploring and it had left him with a headache bad enough it had made him vomit. She'd gotten so mad at him for it that she'd given him the silent treatment for a whole six hours.

He wasn't supposed to heal. He wasn't strong like Charlie. He was already weak from his own health problems. He didn't have the strength to pull someone back from the brink of death. 

Captain Neville was talking to the kid. He was about Danny's age and already dying. Neville had a vial of something. Likely morphine. The legitimate side of the heroine industry. He was offering the entire thing to the boy.

“No!” Danny pulled against his bonds. “Give him to me.”

Neville gave him a withering look. “This doesn't concern you, Boy.”

“I can help him!” He pulled against his restraints. “Please, let me help him!”

“What do you think you can do?” The derision in the officer's voice was thick. Danny scrambled for something plausible.

“My step-mother is a doctor. I've been her apprentice for the past three years!” The soldier took in another ragged breath and it was like a pitchfork was being jammed through his guts. “It hurts nothing to let me try!”

Neville still looked less than impressed, but he gave a sharp nod to one of the other soldiers. The cuffs were unlocked and Danny scrambled over the wagon floor to the dying man.

Maggie really had been teaching him. Charlie, too. When she had figured out what was different about the Matheson siblings, she had felt that teaching them about actual medicine was a good idea. Her hope had been that if they learned to identify illnesses and injuries they might be able to make better choices in what to do. Maybe even opt to use regular human medicine instead of their little something extra. Danny was better at the regular human stuff. Charlie's learning had somehow merged with her curse and let her diagnose someone just by standing within five feet of them. She knew who was developing pneumonia before it really set in, whose arthritis was acting up and who caught the clap during his last trading visit to the nearest town with a brothel. She knew when people were sick before they even had a chance to start feeling it. It was a bit creepy.

The bullet had ripped into the kid's intestines. Waste material and partially digested rations were fouling the abdominal cavity along with the internal bleeding. He was a mess. 

He could do this. Charlie did it for him. She was always taking care of him. He was the only person she could heal without Dad chewing her out for it, which he had never thought was entirely fair. Sure, he understood all the reasons they kept the curse a secret. Still, it seemed wrong not to help if they had the ability.

Danny reached deep inside of himself and tapped the spark that hid there. He pulled it to the surface as he put one hand on the man's forehead and the other over the wound. His hearing started to gray out, lost in a buzz that muffled Neville's angry inquiries as he pushed the energy of his body into that of the dying man next to him.

It hurt. Maybe hurt more than not doing anything. The curse had never flowed as easily for him as it seemed to do for his sister. Charlie could pull up the curse and let it flow out of her as easily as breathing, or so it seemed. She claimed it was still painful for her, but it couldn't possibly be this bad for her. She always helped him without complaint, never shying away, but if surely she couldn't, wouldn't, if she got this same sensation of gritty, burning coals scouring her nerves and peeling the flesh from her bones.

The curse felt the damaged flesh tissue and surged forward, pulling out of him in a torrent. He was aware of the lacerated casing of intestines pulling and sealing. Delicate blood vessels tugged back into place, torn ends reattaching. Something foreign and wrong was working its way up through the mess of the boy's innards, the body squeezing it out. 

The taste of salt and copper touched his tongue. His nose was bleeding. He wasn't actually looking at anything, but he was aware that his vision was narrowing. Breathing was becoming harder for him, a feeling all too familiar. His asthma was flaring up, his body reacting violently to the power. Someone was yelling at him. He thought he felt hands gripping his shoulders and pulling at him, but his muscles were locked and tense, every fiber of his body straining and tense. 

Just a little...bit...more.

Finally the curse was satisfied. He felt it, purring in contentment as it confirmed the body lying next to him was whole. The pain receded like hooks being plucked out one by one and he could hear again. He could hear, but he wasn't entirely sure what was being said as he started to slump over in exhaustion, the fingers of one hand curled around something. Hands pulled him back from the wounded soldier and guided him into a reclined position in the back of the wagon and he dimly realized that what he was holding in his hand was the malformed slug that had still been in the boy's gut.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I know it's been a while. We lost my father late February and I haven't felt like doing much of anything since. I'm not gong to promise to be more diligent in my update (I wasn't before, why start now?) just apologizing for how long it's been._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> __

“Sir?” Tom looked up from his book. “I think he's coming around.”

He rose from his chair and dropped the book down into the seat before following the soldier to the tent they'd set up for the Matheson boy. He'd set West on watching him. The young man felt understandably beholden to him after he'd saved his life. He'd make sure no one troubled the boy while he was unconscious.

Danny Matheson wasn't a small person. The boy was well developed, made strong by the exertion needed to make a farming village and life after the Blackout work. But for the past few days he looked frail, almost ethereal. He hadn't dared to move him without him being stable first. He'd stopped breathing three times the first day after healing West, and each time they'd managed to resuscitate him, but only just.

Tom took the chair next to the boy's cot. He was stirring, eyes fluttering halfway open the falling back down as though too heavy to move. “Danny.” His head twitched slightly towards him. “Danny, can you open your eyes?”

Blue eyes cracked open. He licked dry lips and swallowed. His breathing had a slight raspy quality to it, but seemed manageable. “Did...did it work?”

“Yeah, it worked. Corporal West will see his parents again, thanks to you.” Tom poured some water from a nearby canteen into a tin cup and helped Danny sit up enough to drink from it. “What was that, Danny Boy? What did you do?”

He swallowed the water, grimacing slightly as though it hurt. “That's what's going to kill me one day.” He delivered the line as a matter of fact, without hardly any inflection.

“Kill you?” Tom set the cup back onto the crate acting as a bedside table. “You seem sure of that.”

Danny's eyes were focused on the canvas of the tent above him. “It kills us all, eventually.”

~***~

“Damn it, Charlie, you're killing me! What are you doing here?”

“I'm coming with you.”

“I told you I would come and find you.”

“That's not good enough. You need to let me come with you!”

“Look, I get it. You want your brother. You've been abundantly clear on the subject.”

“No, you don't get it! You need to let me help. Okay?”

“Why?”

“Because it's my fault, Miles!”

So help him, if Rachel wasn't already dead, he'd strangle the bitch. She had no right to put such a heavy burden on Charlie. He still might kill Ben for letting it continue on like he did. When the curse landed on her, he should have cut her some slack. The price it exacted on the members of the family that had it was harsh enough.

“You follow my every order. I tell you to do something, you do it. No sass. No questions. Got it?”

His daughter nodded, relief crossing her features.

His daughter.

Fuck.

He'd told himself long ago that he wouldn't have children. Their grandmother had been the last one in their direct line with the curse. He and Ben had only known her from pictures. She'd burned out when their father had been six and their aunt was only three. There'd been a distant cousin in Kansas who'd been in college to be a vet on a football scholarship. He'd killed himself saving his girlfriend after they'd been t-boned by a drunk driver. Miles had decided not to have any kids because he hadn't wanted to risk having a child who'd die young. Didn't want a child of his to have to go through with the pain that came with the power.

Well, he'd screwed up there.

It was worse now that he knew she was his. Now that he had met her. Spoken to her. She was gutsy and sharp and the dedication she had to her brother reminded him of how he'd felt towards Bass. 

But he'd never felt as close to Ben. He didn't really know why. He and Ben had just been too different. Ben had always been studious and nerdy. He and Bass had been 'real boys', ready to get dirty and find trouble. Bass had been more like him than his older brother had been. Bass had been his brother in heart, if not in blood.

And his brother had gone mad.

He needed to get Danny away from the Militia before they figured out what he could do. Before they burned the boy out. He was..what..eighteen? Nineteen? 

“Miles?”

She'd been so quiet as they walked. She moved well and the fresh kills she made for the evening fire meant she knew how to use that crossbow. The girl had adapted well to life. “Yeah?”

“Do you know...do you know where it came from?”

The eternal question. “No. No one does. Not really. It's likely that a few generations weren't recorded in the beginning. Probably took awhile before they figured out what was going on.”

“Why did it become a bad thing? I mean, we can help people.”

He shook his head. “At what cost, Charlie? I never had to put up with it, but everything they teach us says it hurts like hell. Does it?”

She hesitated for a bit before answering. “Yeah. It hurts more depending on how injured or sick the person is. I think it hurts less for me than it would for Danny, but we watch him.”

“Watch him how?”

“He...he can't _not_ do it. Not if the person is really bad off. He'll sleepwalk in the middle of the night to get to the person, so D...Ben and Maggie would stay up with him. Restrain him if need be.”

Miles winced, grateful she was behind him so she couldn't see it. The boy sounded like a prime candidate to burnout. Probably wouldn't make it to twenty-five. “What about you? Did they have to restrain you?”

“No, not me. I feel it when people hurt. I feel the urge. It doesn't control me. And I can make it stop.”

“You keep saying that, but what do you mean?”

“I can...make someone stable. Fix the major stuff, but I don't have to fix everything. I can get them out of danger and let their own healing or regular medicine do the rest.”

He slowed to a stop and turned around to look at her. “You can actually stop?”

She rolled her eyes. “That's what I've been saying.”

A little spark of hope tweaked inside of him. “That's rare, Charlie. That's very rare.”

“Yeah, so I've been told. Repeatedly.”

It might not kill her. She could be one of the precious few who could survive it, but that didn't come without its own price. “Charlie, if you're one of those who makes it...you can't have kids. You know that, right? I mean, the handful of those who make it...they always have a kid with it, too. It doesn't skip for generations. And that kid usually doesn't make it.”

She fidgeted under his gaze. “I know.”

She looked saddened by the idea. Enough so that Miles felt obliged to put an arm about her shoulders and give her a brief squeeze. He sucked at the touchy-feely stuff, but he supposed that a father would offer some kind of comfort to his daughter. 

“This lady, Nora? She can help us get Danny back?”

“She can. She used to work for the Militia as a bounty hunter. One of their best.”

“So, one of your best.” He faltered and she shrugged. “Dad told me. You made the Militia. You were Monroe's general.”

He took in a breath and nodded. “Yeah. I made them. And I know how they think and how they work. They are brutal and vicious and smart, because I made them that way.” He frowned, his mind rolling over thoughts. “I am a selfish dick, Charlie. Always have been. I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of, and I don't learn from my mistakes.” He started walking again and she moved with him. “When the lights went out, everything was chaos. People were killing each other over a can of beans. Me and Bass, we thought we were helping. Trying to establish some order. And I think we did some good at first, but then everything just got out of control.

“I've killed a lot of people, Charlie. I killed them without a second thought. I'm the opposite of you, and I honestly don't know how I could have fathered a healer. Maybe you're Fate's price to make up for me. Maybe knowing I have a child with the curse and I'm likely to bury her way too soon is punishment.”

“I'm not going to die, Miles.”

“You can't know that. Not for certain.”

“I won't die.” Her voice was determined. Sure. “I'm going to survive it.”

“Part of me hopes you're right, kid. Another part of me wonders if it wouldn't be kinder if you didn't.”

They found the work camp. The prisoners were being used to move a defunct helicopter. Bass must think he really could get the power back on. Nora was in the line of people chained to one another and pulling the flat bed wagon. There were at least two dozen of them and they were still struggling. The thing must weigh a ton.

They waited until dark before Miles moved in a got Nora out. She wasn't exactly happy about it, because it put a crimp in her plans to steal a sniper rifle.

“You went through all that trouble for a rifle?”

“Who the hell is this?”

“I'm his daughter.”

Nora blinked, stunned for a moment as she gaped at the young blonde before looking over at Miles. “You have a kid?”

“Yeah, took me by surprise, too.”

“What are you doing here? You were supposed to keep the hell away from me, remember?”

“Yeah, well, things are different now.”

“How?”

“Me.” Charlie got her attention back. “The Militia took my brother. He's going to help me get him back.”

Nora looked as though she didn't believe it as she looked back at Miles. “Seriously. What's your angle?”

“No angle. This is for real. And I want you to come with me. Nora, you owe me.”

“Oh, for that amazing rescue?”

“You know what for.”

From the look on her face, she did know. But she still wanted the rifle. Sunrise found them at a long forgotten work shop as Nora used whatever she could find to cobble together a weapon. The trouble was that there was only one shot and someone had to get close to the warden to hit the mark. Nora couldn't do it. Miles couldn't do it.

“I'll do it.” Both of them looked at her. “Some innocent girl lost in the woods?”

“No.”

Nora was already walking towards her. “It's a good idea, Miles.”

“You can't do it. You actually cannot do it. You will choke.”

“I won't.”

“You, who bitched about me killing someone in cold blood. You're going to walk up to someone and shoot them in the face. A person like you.” He didn't need to elaborate that last bit. She knew what he was thinking.

“I've killed someone before.”

That drew him up short. “What?”

Her stomach churned at the memory. “On our way to find you. Some guys attacked us. One of them was gonna kill D...Ben. I didn't have a choice.”

Miles looked like he wanted to punch something. “Ben, you moron.”

That got her hackles up. “Hey! Maybe he didn't do things the way you may have done, but he did the best he could. He was the only father I knew for twenty years. He may not be my real father, but he is my dad, and he took care of me. So stop...being so hard on him. Especially when he's not even here to defend himself.” 

She looked back at Nora. “What do I have to do?”

The plan was relatively simple. She had the zip gun hidden under the sleeve of her jacket and 'wandered' up to the work camp. She was just out hunting. She got lost. The warden told the soldiers to ease up and bring her forward. He knew the area, maybe he could help. Where was she from?

She waited until she was close enough, then moved. The single projectile pierced the warden's chest and sent him tumbling off his horse. She lunged and grabbed the rifle as one of the guards moved for her. The air around her erupted in the sounds of clanging metal and shouts as she wrestled with the soldier for control of the rifle. With a last desperate kick she knocked him back, swerved the weapon around and fired. 

They found the keys to the chains and let the prisoners go. Nora was tending to a sword cut to her abdomen, pouring whiskey onto it. “You shouldn't do that.”

The woman looked over her shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“You shouldn't pour whiskey onto a wound like that. It kills the healthy tissue, slows healing and pretty much gaurantees a nasty scar.”

“It also disinfects.”

“Not as much as you might think. Water and soap are your best bet if you don't have any sterile saline solution.”

Nora looked at her with a furrowed brow, probably not sure if she should believe her or not. Miles was unlocking the last chain. “She's probably right. Her step-mother's a doctor and I suspect she's been studying with her for a while now.”

“And all the old movies and books?”

Charlie shrugged. “It makes a good, tough-guy vibe, but it's not reality.” She found a pitcher of water and a bowl in one of the tents, a bar of soap and what looked like a clean towel, carrying them back over to Nora so she could clean the injury properly. The injury wasn't terribly serious. She felt the pull to heal it, but it wasn't anything she couldn't ignore. 

Miles' stare was a tangible weight on the back of her neck. She knew he was watching her to make sure she didn't do anything “stupid”. She knew better than to blow her cover. She only did so back home because those had been her neighbors and friends. People who were injured and were dying because the Militia was looking for her da...uncle. It wasn't the same.

“You do good work.” Nora gave her a slight smile as she inspected the patch job. “Planning on being a doctor yourself?”

“Something like that.” She carefully did not look at Miles, though she felt and heard him coming closer.

“We should get moving. You know, before some squad comes in from patrol or something.” He gave her a hand up, his eyes moving over the perimeter for any sign of threat. “I want to put some distance between us and this camp.”

~***~

Charlie was getting a feeling that Miles and Nora used to be an item. Though Nora seemed kind of smart and her father was proving to be something of an ass, so she wasn't sure how that would have happened in the first place. She would expect Nora to go for someone not quite so...snarky. Yes, that was the word Maggie would use.

Needles, sharp and hot, began to prickle inside her skin. She was already slightly behind Miles and Nora so they didn't notice her steps slowing much as they broke from the treeline and onto the 

“This is your rebel base? Really?” Miles had been trying to talk Nora into keeping the rifle and bringing it to Philly, without success.

There were people hurt inside. Hurt badly. The thing inside her felt it and tugged at its chains, trying to reach for those in need. She closed her eyes and concentrated. Nine? No, ten people. Broken bones. Internal bleeding. One was going to be dead before they could even get inside from a lacerated liver and punctured bowel. He was too far gone, even if she broke into a dead run now in an attempt to get there.

They were challenged at the door. It was when Nora was talking to Nicholas that Miles noticed Charlie's discomfort. When they were invited inside, he reached out to place a firm hand on her shoulder. 

“I think we should wait out here.”

“I'll be fine.”

“You're not going in there.” His voice was pitched low and lacking in give. He ignored Nora's puzzled expression as he moved his grip from Charlie's shoulder to her elbow and pulled her away from the door. “We'll scout the perimeter. Make sure that we didn't pick up a tail.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No. What could possibly be wrong? It's just a secret rebel base. Nothing to worry about there.”

“I can handle it.” Charlie tried to pull away but he tightened his fingers into her elbow. 

“It's fine. You can trust Nate.”

“No, Nora. My daughter; my decision. We'll wait out here.”

“Really, I ca...”

“That's final.” He gave her a look that promised physical retribution if she didn't drop the subject. Not yet truly knowing Miles, she wasn't certain it was a bluff. “We'll be out here.”

Nate didn't look comfortable with that idea. “Stay within eye sight. My boys will shoot if you try to make a run for it.”

“Groovy.” Miles ushered Charlie further away from the door, a hand on her back between her shoulder blades where the fine but building tension was most easily detected.

When they were fairly out of ear shot, she tried again. “Miles, I can handle it.”

“How many?”

“What?”

“Don't play dumb. How many wounded?”

She swallowed. “Nine, now. There were ten, but one of them died while we were talking.”

“Yeah, you are not going in there. I never should have let Nora talk me into coming here. I should have clocked her over the head and took her with us.”

She let out a delicate snort. “Yeah, _that_ would have gone over well.”

“Which one of us is the military general, here?”

“I'm told it's you, but general doesn't equal genius.”

“You know, you're not too old to be spanked. I'm twice your size and easily three times as mean.” He rubbed the spot between her shoulders. “You should have been kept from all of this. This...this wasn't how your life was supposed to be. None of this.”

She noted the change of tone in his voice and craned her neck back to look at him. “What was it supposed to be like?”

“You should have been in college by now. Studying some kind of science or medicine. Have a dozen or so idiots trailing around after you like love sick puppies with me and Ba...” He dropped off at the end, not wanting to finish that thought.

“Bass?” It was a good guess. “You and Bass...what? Threatening to break their legs if they tried anything?”

“Fuck no. We'd just threaten to shoot them.” Miles swallowed. “You helped me pull him back, you know.”

“Back from what?” She stopped, turning an inquiring look up at her father.

“His family, parents and sisters, they were killed. A drunk driver crossed the center line and killed them all. It drove him to the edge. I found him in the cemetery at their graves with a bottle of whiskey and a loaded hand gun. He was gonna eat a bullet. Felt he had nothing left. I managed to get him to give me the gun and got him out of there, but he was still a mess. Didn't let him out of my sight the rest of leave so I had him with me when I sent to see you guys in Chicago. Danny was a year old and always sick, you were always being told to be quiet so you didn't upset him and Bass looked like a damn zombie. You didn't say a word. Just climbed up on the couch with him, crawled into his lap and hugged him. He was just going through the motions up until then, but when you did that, he just wrapped his arms around you and wouldn't let you go.”

She pondered that for a long moment. “What happened to him? It sounds like he used to be a decent guy.”

“Too many losses. Too much pain. He had a girl after the Blackout. A wife, if you want to be blunt. At least as much of a wife as anyone who got together after everything went to hell has got. They were expecting a kid and she went into labor. Something went wrong and we lost them both. Before that he was the voice of reason, always talking to me about keeping the bloodshed and the killing down and trying to take the more diplomatic path. Then Shelly screamed and he ran into that tent. The man who came back out was covered in blood and...broken. He never was the same after that. Everything changed to building up something safe and secure. It took a while before I realized he was trying to do it for me. To keep me safe and secure. He went off the rails and became focused on winning at any cost, of building an empire so that no one could touch anyone he considered family again.”

“So what drove you away?”

Miles looked over her shoulder off into the distance, remembering that day. “We had a tradition of going out for a drink on our birthdays. It was mine. We were in one of our favorite places in Philly when a bomb went off. I was unconscious. Completely out it. Almost died. When I came to, Bass had already found the bomber. He called me over to the window to watch them load the coffins.” Miles swallowed. “There were five. He'd had the bomber killed, but he'd also ordered the deaths of his wife and their three children. The whole damn family. Said that if anyone messed with his family, he'd destroy theirs.”

“Shit.”

That one word was still unexpected coming out of the blond, somewhat angelic looking woman beside him. It made him smile. “Yeah, so...let's not find out what he'd do to keep you safe if he found out you're my kid.”

“Isn't he pissed at you, now? I mean, you tried to kill him.”

“If he was that pissed, the reward would be dead or alive. He wants me breathing. I don't think he could kill me any more than I could kill him. He probably just wants to beat the shit out of me. Maybe lock me up for a while.”

There was something false about his words. Charlie could taste it. “You don't think that's it, do you?”

“No. No I don't.” He hadn't thought that from the moment he found out the price on his head.

“What do you think he really wants?”

Miles took a breath and let it out slowly. “I think he wants me back. Wants to find out what went wrong and fix it. I've considered going back to see. More than once. Thought about walking back into Philly and insisting that we fix what's wrong with the Republic. Clean up the Militia. Try an actual trade agreement with Georgia and Texas instead of trying just take what we need, that way we could concentrate more on the Plains border.”

Charlie gave a shrug. “So why don't you? Why don't we? I mean, why don't you and I just take off towards Philly, walk in through the front gate and you have a sit down with Monroe? If you think he might listen, then we might be able to get Danny back without any fuss.”

“The real world doesn't work that way, Charlie.”

“You just said yourself that you think he wants you back. Who knows him better than you?” She moved so he had to look her in the eyes. “It's worth a change, Miles. You said you were like brothers. Hell, even Dad says you were always closer to Bass than you were to him. He's practically family, and you shouldn't give up on family. Your brother never gave up on you, even when you turned into a dictatorial jackass and he found out you screwed his wife.”

Great, his daughter was a know-it-all brat. “You and me. You want me to walk into Philadelphia, the headquarters of the Militia, with someone who has the ability to mend a broken bones or a ruptured bowel in minutes. I might as well just shoot you between your eyes.”

“Now you're going to use me as an excuse for you being too chicken to take a chance that you might be able to President Dickhead to listen to reason? That's some stellar parenting, right there.”

“Charlie, I swear to God I will beat you.”

Her response was to roll her eyes. “Sure you will.”

He was about shake some sense into her when he caught something off in the distance. “Get down!” He grabbed her shoulder as he said it and pulled her behind an old car. She followed his lead, keeping close to his shoulder. Behind her she noted that the two kids keeping watch on them did the same.

“What is it?”

“Movement out in the trees. And I'm pretty sure I saw the back end of a horse.”

“A horse?”

“Yeah, and usually only officers and couriers get them. It's a squad.”

“Maybe not. Could just be a trapper or a hunter.”

Miles grimaced. “Could be, but with the bodies inside, I highly doubt it.”

He had a point. “What do we do?”

Miles sighed. “We could make a run for it, just the two of us, but we still need Nora.” He growled, a frightening sound deep in his chest. “We need to get her. Come on.”

He turned them both around and headed back towards the restaurant, keeping low so that the long dead vehicles hid them. He motioned for the boys to follow and they slipped into the door behind the dumpster. 

This was not going to end well.


	4. Chapter 4

The awareness of so many in pain, wounded and even dying hit her and penetrated down to her bones. It wasn't as bad as it had been back home. Perhaps because those people had been known to her, had been her friends and chosen family. Did the closeness of connection between healer and injured make a difference?

Well, this was hardly the time to dwell on such matters. Not that Miles would allow her to do so. He gripped her hand to near bruising as he pulled her through the makeshift infirmary in search of Nora and her friend, Nathaniel.

Charlie hurried along as she worked on finding her 'center'. Aaron had found these books on new age meditation techniques and had worked out some kind of regimen that she still wasn't certain she had a lot of faith in. The 'center' thing seemed to help some, though. If nothing else, it helped her relegate the pain of others to the fringes of her mind so she could focus on what was before her. They had both drawn the line at using chimes, incense and funny little vocalizations, though.

“Nora! Looks like we got company.”

Both Nora and Nate looked up, their expressions strained. “You sure.”

“Pretty sure. Someone's got a horse out in the woods. Probably a scout. He'll be getting the rest of his squad. If it was an officer they'd already be firing. We need to clear out and fast.”

Nate shook his head. “Most of my guys can't be moved.”

“We either run or we all die. These guys will not hesitate to kill the lot of you, even the wounded.”

“Nate, he's right.” Nora was about to say more when gun fire thundered outside, shattering what was left of the glass widows in the old restaurant.”

“Fuck!” Miles pulled Charlie down, taking cover behind the old stainless steel prep counter. “You got a back way out of here?” Nate shook his head. Her father scowled and looked around until he found a rickety chair which he then grabbed and broke off a leg before finding a weak spot in the mortar in a wall and pulled the brick free. “Then we'll Shawshank our way out of here. Nora, you got someone who can actually use that sniper rifle?”

The rifle was given to their best shot who took up a spot on the roof to keep the Militia soldiers at bay. Nora gathered up her pack and gear. “I'll rig up some surprises for our friends. Charlie, you should help with the wounded. Any skills you can bring to the table would be welcomed.”

She was about to move that direction when Miles' hand shot out to grip her elbow with a decisive “No!”

Nora blinked. “Miles, she's got training, which is what we need.”

He pulled Charlie around to face him with a firm jerk, his dark eyes boring into hers. “You go anywhere near those men and I will personally walk in their and slit every fucking throat. You got me?”

“MILES!” Nora's shock was clear. Nate bristled at the threat. Miles ignored them both, glaring at her. He gave her another rough little shake. “You got me?”

She nodded. “I get it. Stay away from the wounded.”

He held her eyes for another protracted moment before giving a curt nod. “Go help Nora with the traps.”

She pulled free and followed Nora. The older woman waited until they were out of earshot to ask “What the fuck was that?”

Charlie shook her head. “It's nothing. Family stuff. What do I need to do?”

Nora looked less than convinced, but they didn't have time to argue. Their sniper would run out of ammo eventually and they needed to be ready. She gave Charlie a crash course in making bombs and setting them up on trip wires until they were out of supplies and had to head back to the kitchen. They arrived just in time for the tunnel to collapse and watch Miles pull out the kid who'd gotten caught by the dirt and debris. No sooner than they were about to go at it again, the Militia 'knocked' on their door, signaling that their sniper had run out of ammunition.

Close quarters combat is messy and confusing. For Charlie it was a living nightmare, because she could literally feel any injuries she caused on an opponent while also feeling the injuries and wounds sustained by everyone else. Her senses were in a riot, making all she could do to hold her own. The sudden shocked stop in the fighting was a relief.

“Miles?”

She looked up to see Miles starting at a Militia Officer for a long second before sucker punching him and taking him captive. He pulled the dazed back back with him, calling everyone inside and ordering the door to be secured. She moved quickly in relation to his orders, helping to tie the man to a chair.

“Miles, it is you!”

She looked up as she secured an ankle. “Miles, do you know this guy?” He didn't answer her, his expression taut as he avoided her eyes. Well, that was enough of that. She'd already figured out how to push his buttons in such a case. “Dad! How do you know him?”

The officer's head jerked, his expression one of shock and surprise. He blinked. “Are you...” He blinked again and then his mouth spread in a smile. “You're Charlotte, aren't you. Damn, kid, you have no idea how long we were looking for you.” He looked from her to Miles. “So...I take it Bass was right? How'd you guys figure it out? Last I knew you were adamant that she was Ben's.”

Miles ignored the man and looked at her. “Charlie, shut up.”

“Oh, don't be like that. You're a dad! This is great.” The soldier turned his grin back at her. “I tell you, kitten, you wouldn't believe the number of raids this guy started because there'd been even the slightest hint that you and the rest of the fam might have been in this town or another. He was dead set on finding you guys. Well, you especially. I think Monroe was more interested in your parents, but for Miles it was always about you. Even when Monroe was saying he was pretty certain you were his and he still insisted 'No, she's Ben's kid. Rachel would've said if it was otherwise.”

A sick feeling started in the pit of her stomach. Charlie could feel the color fleeing her face as Miles took a step towards the chair. “Jeremy, you want to shut up. Right now.”

“What? Are we trying to protect your baby girl's precious fee-fees? She's a Blackout Kid, Miles. They tend to be pretty tough. None of that SJW bullshit we had to deal with back in the day.”

Nate stepped into Miles' view. “You're Miles Matheson? I ought to kill you right now!”

“Padre, what about forgiveness?”

“Christ forgives. I'm not Christ!” He turned his glare to Nora. “You brought Miles Matheson here.” Her response was to look away.

“We have bigger problems right now, Padre. Like getting you and your guys out of here alive. And we're going to do it with him.” He pointed at Jeremy.

“Won't work.”

“Of course it will work. I wrote the rules.”

“Well, the rules have changed, kitten. Monroe is through negotiating with terrorists.”

“You're a lousy liar, Jeremy.”

“Oh, I'm a liar? Look me in the eye and tell me I'm a liar.” Jeremy held Miles' gaze long enough to be verified.

Miles looked away from Jeremy, the wheels in his mind turning, planning. They skidded to a halt when he caught sight of Charlie, her back to the wall behind her, her arms wrapped tightly about her torso in a self-hug. Her skin had lost all color and her eyes were filled with pain. 

Fuck. The fight had meant more wounded and dying. They were just on the other side of the door, and now all this drama inside the room was added atop that. As strong as she was, she had to be in agony.

“Hey, Charlie.” He hooked his finger under her chin and forced her head up so he could catch her eyes. “Look at me. I need you to keep it together just a little bit longer, okay? Just until we can get out of here. Can you do that for me?”

She swallowed and gave a shaky nod of her head. He noted the stubborn set of her lips and a tilt in her chin that he recognized from his own face in the mirror.

Miles pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips close to her ear, keeping his voice to a whisper. “I know you're hurting. I'm going to get you away from the pain as soon as I can. I promise.”

“Oh, this is beautiful. I mean, after all you've gone through trying to find her and to finally have her back...it's great.” Miles let go of his daughter and turned to glare at Jeremy. The blonde man grinned. “Hey, you know Monroe still has that room you guys set aside for her back in Philly. Right across the hall from yours. He's even added a few things he found over the past few years that he thought she might like. You know, if we ever found her again.”

Miles responded by punching him unconscious. “He never did know when to shut up.”

Nora had placed herself halfway between Miles and Nate, just in case she needed to keep one from killing the other. “What's the plan?”

“The plan is to bargain our way out of here, with the only thing that we know for sure the Militia won't pass up.” He took a breath, making himself come to grips with the idea. “We give him me.”

That snapped Charlie back to herself. “What? No! What about Danny?”

“They're taking Danny to Mornoe and Monroe wants me alive. I'll just have to convince him to make my nephew into my good behavior bond. He keeps him safe and healthy and I behave myself.” Miles ignored his daughter's angry glare to concentrate on Nora. “I need you to go with Charlie and meet up with my brother and the others, then get them to Texas. Ben will know how to reach her grandfather, but you take them to John Fry, first. Tell him everything. Who they are and what they are to me. If Monroe makes me put that damn uniform back on I want every Ranger they've got between him and Charlie.”

Charlie shouted another protest but neither of them paid attention. Nora just gave a nod of understanding, her expression set. 

“No! No, I will NOT let you do this!” Miles pulled up short as his daughter was suddenly standing in front of him, her expression even more mulish than before. “You are not going anywhere with the Militia. Not without me.”

“Charlie, we don't have time for this.”

Nora tried to take hold of the younger woman's arm to pull her back. “Charlie, Miles is right. The best thing we can do now is get you out of the Republic and somewhere safe.” 

Charlie yanked her arm away, still facing her father. “Danny is my brother. I took care of him all these years and I am not leaving him out there to those...vultures! You said you would help me get him back and THAT is what you are going to do! You promised me!”

Miles struck out, but it was to capture her face in his hands, making her go still. “Things change, Charlie. I need you to stay safe. Ben has done that up til now. As much as I may disagree with his methods, he has kept you safe and alive. Trust me to see to Danny.” She tried shaking her head again, but he kept it still. “It will likely mean that you don't see one another again, but I will keep him alive. I need you to do this for me, Charlie. You've heard what I became when I wasn't sure if you were still even alive. I need you to be safe so I don't become that person again.”

She didn't like it. It took them a while to get her to promise to do as she was told. Miles didn't look wholly convinced, but he let Nora take charge of her as he woke Jeremy up and laid out the deal.

“I want that rifle, too. The one you were using to take pot shots at my boys.”

“All right.”

Baker gave a nod. “And don't worry about my guys. They'll keep their hands off Charlie. I wouldn't let anyone abuse her.”

“She's not coming with us.”

Jeremy blinked. “I'm supposed to believe you're just going to leave her behind and you'll still behave yourself. No, not buying it. The kid comes with.” He shrugged. “What are you worried about? Monroe wouldn't harm a hair on her head and you know it. Fuck, she's practically nobility.”

“Charlie isn't coming with us, and you're not sending any of your boys doubling back to get her. She's out of this.”

Baker didn't like it, but he took off with Miles and the Rifle only. The rebels started hurrying to move in case the Militia double crossed them. 

Charlie turned angry eyes on Nora. “So what now? We go get Dad and the others and run off to Texas?”

Nora arched a brow back at her. “Please, I doubt Miles has drunk so much over the past five years that hes forgotten I ignored his orders at least sixty percent of the time. Let's go your father back.”

It was loud and dirty and fast, but they did it. Nora's skill with explosives mixed with Charlotte's skill with a crossbow and they had Miles back. He waited until they'd put enough distance between them and Baker before he stopped long enough to berate them both for not following orders. All the while hugging his daughter close to his chest.

~***~

“This is who's going up again Monroe?”

“Now aren't you glad you signed on?”

Charlie shoulder checked Miles before introducing Nora to Ben, Aaron and Maggie. They filled the others in while on the move. There was a heart pounding moment where they escaped from a pack of feral dogs, with Maggie having to kill one in the process. They were going past an abandoned amusement park when Miles detached himself from the party and looped back. Next thing they knew, he was in a fight with a young man who was familiar with most of them.

Charlie pulled him off the other kid. Then it all came out, how she'd run into him when following Miles and thought she'd handled it. Nate saying it had taken him three days to get free after she'd handcuffed him to that pole. Miles was all for killing him outright, which Ben and Maggie were against. Nora instead secured his wrists and they took him prisoner. He might come in handy later.

It was later on during their trek when they were looking for a place to take shelter when the attack happened. Maggie was grabbed from behind, a well placed knife blade cutting into her let. Charlie felt the cut, her training automatically diagnosing the problem: severed femoral artery.

“Maggie! Dad! Miles!”

They chased off the attacker and got into an old restaurant. Maggie was set down, the denim of her pants already wet with blood. 

“He said I killed his dog.” Maggie's voice was a bit numb. Her body was already taking precautions to keep her from feeling too much pain. She was in doctor mode now, assessing her own injury and taking stock of the damage.

Charlie was on her knees by Maggie's side, her hands gripping the edges of the cut fabric and pulling it apart, that curious energy inside her already spinning up. Miles was still securing the door when he heard Ben and Maggie both start telling her 'no'.

Miles turned from the door and took in the scene. The pool of blood beneath the woman was already growing and Charlotte's placement over her was obvious. “Charlie, no!”

Nora was securing the prisoner, her expression one of confusion. “What's going on?”

Miles started closing the distance between himself and Charlie, only to have his daughter unsheathe her hunting knife and hold it in a steady hand pointed in his direction as her other hand closed over the wound. 

Maggie tried to pull her away with weakening fingers. “Charlotte, know, it's too dangerous. You might hurt yourself.”

“Shhhh.” Charlie kept her hand against the wound. From the outside it seemed as though her hair began to rise and float on a current of air that only surrounded her. Perhaps her eyes shone a bit brighter, though it was difficult to tell with them half-lidded as they were. 

Nora rose from her crouch near Nate after he was secured to a support post. “Miles, what is she doing?” He didn't answer her, his jaw line hardening.

Maggie's head fell back against the booth seat and something like a soft whimper came from Charlie that had both Miles and Ben making an abortive move forward. Finally, she let go of Maggie's leg and rolled back onto her heels. The skin was now smooth and unblemished, as though there had never seen a cut there. 

Charlie wiped at her forehead, heedless of the blood on her hand. “She'll need fluids to help replace what she lost. No alcohol. Water is best.”

Nora shook her head. “What the hell, Miles? She could have helped those wounded soldiers back at the base? She could have saved them!”

“Nora, this is not the time. You do not know the whole story.” Miles was clearly upset. Charlie had lowered the knife and he now took hold of her by the elbow and hauled her up onto her feet, pushing her over to one of the empty booths. “Clean yourself up. You've got blood all over you.”

“You didn't want her to help them. That's why you forbade it. You threatened to kill those kids if she tried.” Nora shook her head. “And to think I thought you might have actually changed.”

Miles ignored her. Ben did not. “Nora, I know this seems strange, but there is more here than you realize. Exposure like this is dangerous for her. Miles was only trying to keep her safe.”

Nora let out a bitter laugh. “Keep her safe. Do you know the kind of good she could do?”

“It kills them, Nora.” Miles voice was hard. “Every damn one of them.”

Nora looked from Miles to Ben for explanation. The older brother was more forthcoming. “It's a family condition. Doesn't always present, but when it does, it tends to burn them out quickly. The strain of it, you see. It leaves them little more than dried out husks. So we don't talk about it, and those who have it we keep a close eye on and try to keep them alive as long as possible.”

Charlie finished cleaning off as well as she could. Miles scrounged up old napkins, fragile from age, and a pencil, slamming them down on a table. “Do your trees.”

She gaped at him. She hadn't had to do her trees in years. She could recite the lineage from memory. Who was born. Who had the curse. When those with the curse died. Whether or not they had kids and which of those kids had the curse and how long they lived. She and Danny both had been forced to memorize the entire family tree through hours of repetition until they almost fell asleep while standing. “I don't need a reminder...”

“I SAID DO YOUR DAMN TREES!” She jumped at the anger in his voice. When Ben tried to intervene, he cut him off with a sharp motion of his hand. “No, she's my responsibility now and she's going to do as she's told.”

When Ben went to speak up again, Charlie stopped him. “It's all right. I'm okay.” She moved to the table and sat down, picked up the pencil and started to write down her family tree from memory, just as she had practiced ever since the curse had presented itself.

Once Miles was certain she would continue, he had another problem to deal with. He walked over to their prisoner and helped him to his feet. “You're with me, Nipples.” He pulled him towards and out of the door.

“Where are we going?”

“Just to get some fresh air.” Miles kept a firm grip on the younger man's arm. “Growing boys need sunshine and all that.” Miles pulled him along. “You grew up well, Jason. Filled out nicely.”

“I didn't think you remembered me.”

“Are you kidding? All the time you were underfoot back in Philly? How could I forget?” When they were out of sight of the restaurant, Miles stopped and took a steadying breath and hoped he'd pulled them far enough away.

“You're daughter likes me. Killing me will upset her.”'

“Yeah, it probably will. On the other hand, I can't risk you telling Monroe and his pals about her. It's nothing personal. I actually liked you a hell of a lot more than I did your parents, but I have to look out for my kid.”

Jason watched him closely. “No, I get it. I do. Just tell me something? Why did you do it, General? Why did you turn against us?”

Miles let out a slow breath. “I don't think we have time to get into it. I just wish you'd been smart enough to cut and run before they sucked you in. Sad to see you didn't.”

Jason watched as Miles unsheathed one of his swords, knowing his chance at survival would depend on being quicker than the older man. He planted his feet and waited for the thrust, twisting to the side at the last possible moment and using his body weight to get Miles off balance enough that he could push him down. He kicked the sword away before taking off at a run as hard as he could go.

Miles got back to his feet, picked up his sword and gave chase. Jason was younger and hadn't spent the last five years trying to drink himself to death, so he had a clear edge. Miles, however, was smarter and had more experience under his belt. He would have caught the kid but he ran into another quartet of the dogs that had run them to hide in the restaurant in the first place. With a curse, Miles had to give up his pursuit of the Neville boy and get back to the others.


End file.
